


Dignity (Who Needs It?)

by grimcognito



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Fluff, Hair Braiding, M/M, Ridiculous Hubands Being Snarky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-08
Updated: 2015-01-08
Packaged: 2018-03-06 16:26:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3141020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grimcognito/pseuds/grimcognito
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Elves. Ridiculous, the lot of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dignity (Who Needs It?)

**Author's Note:**

> This is a timestamp from a much longer story, so they will seem out of character, because all of the bitterness and courting have already happened. 
> 
> Yes, I am aware this is a crackship, no, I do not care very much. That dialogue scene between them in BoFA was like two exes meeting up years after a bad breakup and no one can tell me otherwise.

There were several advantages of rescinding his throne to his son in order to take up the role of King's Advisor, and Dain didn't regret the choice. He'd been king long enough to know how much he hadn't wanted the role, though he'd done what he'd had to for his people. It was damned nice to let someone else bear the title now, and his new role was one he was much more suited to. He could bring some experience and balance to Thorin's rule, and he was happy to. It also afforded him more free time, something distinctly lacking when you have a kingdom to rule, no matter the size of it. 

He did not predict, however, how much of that free time he'd be spending outside, in a forest, surrounded by _flowers_. 

Nimble fingers twisted his hair into neat plaits and Dain wondered what color Thranduil deemed worthy today. Blue, perhaps, that was always a good guess. His finicky husband apparently thought it went nicely with his hair. 

Elves. Ridiculous, the lot of them. 

Not that he could say much, what kind of Dwarf enjoyed having an elf braid blossoms into his hair? Even Bella had a cape of colorful greenery draped over her as she snuffled through the grass for tasty clovers. Apparently ageless elven kings did nothing by halves. 

"Stop fidgeting, or I'll never get this to look right." Thranduil's smooth voice reprimanded lightly, though he sounded more amused than annoyed. 

"Aye, because my fidgeting is what's wrong with this whole image." He shot back, rolling his eyes even as he made an effort to sit still. "But if you plan t'spend an age and a half fussin' with my hair, at least make an effort to keep me entertained." 

"I could sing." 

"Don't ye dare. You start in with that ridiculous warbling and I'll toss ya in the river, pretty robes and all." Even as he made threats, he relaxed into Thranduil's touch, soaking in the warmth of the sun and the pleasant smell of the forest around them (though he'd never admit it aloud.) 

Thranduil breathed a soft chuckle and clasped a bead at the end of the final braid before pressing a kiss to the side of his head, just below the absolutely unnecessary, _ridiculous_ crown of flowers. "I would like to see you try, Dwarf." 

Dain snorted, not bothering to hide his grin when slim arms circled him, Thranduil managing to side-eye him in mock distain even as he rested his chin on Dain's shoulder. "Granted, your dangly limbs might get in the way, but I could manage just fine, you dainty waif of an elf."

" _Dainty waif_?" Thranduil's expression was scandalized but his eyes were bright with humor. 

Dain nodded solemnly. "A delicate snowflake."

This time, the laughter was bright and open, a treasured victory. Thranduil's laughter was more rare than mithril and twice as precious. "Hardly! I am as delicate as you are frail, seron. Do not tempt me to throw you into the river to prove it." 

"But then all of your hard work would be ruined." Dain pointed out lazily, patting Thranduil's thigh, easy to do as he was sitting between them. "And I have much better ways to spend my time than sitting in this blasted field for another decade so you can redo them."

Thranduil tutted and shifted away, draping himself (because he couldn't even sprawl properly, oh no, sodding elf had to go and make even that graceful) on the grass next to Dain, chin propped on one fist. He wore one braid, a complex courting braid, of obvious dwarven design and finished with an intricately decorated silver bead. "Always so impatient. Do tell, what better ways to spend this time are you thinking of?"

"Well, I'd demostrate, but I'd look a wee bit ridiculous tryin' to carry you anywhere. And I'm not about t' try and heft you and your gazelle limbs all th' way back to your doorstep." He tapped his chin and made a hummed as if in deep thought. "I suppose I could drape you over that monster of an elk, if given a good running start for the throw. I'd set you on my sturdy Bella, but you'd ruin your satin booties draggin' them in the dirt." 

Thranduil buried his face in his hands and laughed, all composure lost. Dain leaned back on his elbows and grinned wide at the sight. Dwarven lords draped in flowers and Elven kings rolling about with the giggles. Hardly dignified, and that's exactly as he liked it.


End file.
